Mother’s Ruin

by Kitty Neale

  ‘Oh, hello,’ Sally said, liking this young woman on sight. ‘I’m Sally Jones, please, come on in, though I’m sorry I’ll have to leave soon. My husband is in hospital and I’m going to see him this afternoon.’

  ‘Oh dear, what’s wrong with him?’

  ‘He had a car accident and broke his leg, which unfortunately has led to complications,’ Sally told her. ‘What about you? Are you married?’

  Those large blue eyes now darkened with pain. ‘I was,’ Patsy said quietly, ‘but not any more.’

  Sally bit back her questions. Not any more – what did that mean? Was Patsy a widow? Or perhaps her husband had left her? Instead she said, ‘How are you finding the neighbours?’

  ‘I haven’t met any yet, but I’ve seen that there’s a young couple living next door. On the other side I reckon a young bloke lives in the upstairs flat and an elderly couple downstairs.’

  ‘Do you work?’ Sally now asked, then kicked herself. God, she sounded like a right old nosy parker.

  ‘I work for myself. What about you?’

  ‘I have a five-year-old daughter, and I also stay at home to look after my grandmother,’ Sally told her, tempted to ask what sort of business Patsy had.

  ‘What does your husband do for a living?’ Patsy asked, forestalling Sally’s question.

  ‘Until recently he was a partner in his father’s removals company, but now he’s investing in building houses.’

  ‘Goodness, that sounds impressive!’

  ‘It isn’t really,’ Sally said, then glanced at her watch. ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve got shopping to do before I go to the hospital so I must get back. I hope we can get together again when I move in.’

  ‘Yes, that would be nice. Give me a knock and I’ll show you my flat.’

  ‘Thanks, I’ll do that,’ Sally said, and grabbed her coat to go back to Candle Lane. Her thoughts turned to Patsy as she walked. She would like to get to know her better. Perhaps they could become friends.

  Sally got everything on her shopping list and found that thanks to the furniture arriving early, she still had time before she went to see Arthur. ‘Hello, I’m back.’

  Angel ran up to her, brandishing a painting. ‘Are you going to see Daddy today?’

  ‘Of course I am, darling.’

  ‘I want to come. I want to give him this.’

  ‘I’m sorry, pet, you can’t. I’ll give your painting to Daddy. I know he’ll love it.’

  ‘No, I want to come with you.’

  Sally knew that unless Angel was distracted she’d go on and on so she said, ‘Listen, when Daddy comes home from hospital we’re moving into a nice new flat. You’ll have your own bedroom and there’s a garden for you to play in.’

  Angel’s brow furrowed. ‘Is Nanny coming too?’

  ‘No, she’ll stay here with Gamma. Don’t worry, the flat isn’t far away and you’ll still see each other every day.’

  ‘I want to stay here too.’

  ‘I can’t see you moving out before Christmas, Sally.’

  ‘I can’t either, Mum,’ she said, sighing.

  ‘Come on, Angel,’ her mother said. ‘I’ve got someone coming round with a Christmas tree soon and you can help me find the decorations.’

  ‘Like last year, did it fall off the back of a lorry?’ Sadie asked.

  ‘That’s for me to know,’ Ruth said, with a cheeky wink.

  Christmas, Sally thought, just over a week away and then it would be a new year. Would it be a good one? Yes, of course it would. Her gran was fine, and before long she and Arthur would be in their own home again.

  An hour later and Sally was about to get ready for her Saturday visit to the hospital when there was a knock on the door. With her mother and Angel still searching for Christmas decorations, she expected it to be the man with the tree, but instead she found herself shoved to one side as Laura Walters barged inside.

  ‘Where is he?’ the woman spat as her eyes darted around.

  ‘Where’s who?’

  ‘Don’t play games with me. Where’s my son?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Don’t give me that. The little bugger is always in here.’

  ‘I doubt that,’ Sally protested, ‘and he isn’t in here now.’

  Laura ignored her and staggered through to the kitchen, snarling when she saw Ruth. ‘Oi you, where’s my boy?’

  ‘Get out of my house!’ Ruth cried.

  ‘Not until Tommy’s with me!’

  ‘He ain’t in here.’

  ‘You’re lying! Where is he?’ she shouted, her eyes wildly looking around the room.

  ‘You heard my daughter,’ Sadie said, joining in the affray. ‘She told you to get out!’

  ‘Shut up, you old witch,’ Laura spat.

  Sally could see that Angel was frightened, and riled she grabbed Laura’s arm. ‘I won’t have you upsetting my daughter or my grandmother. If you don’t go I’ll call the police.’

  ‘All right, miss high and mighty, I’ll go, but I’m not finished with your mother yet. I’ve told my boy to stay away from her, and if he comes in here again I’ll flay him alive.’ On that note Laura stumbled outside, shouting as she went, ‘Tommy! Where are you, you little sod!’

  Sally closed the door swiftly behind her and then marched back to the kitchen. ‘Mum, you know I don’t like Angela mixing with that boy. I hope this fiasco stops you fetching him in.’

  ‘I’m sick of hearing you say that. Even if he didn’t come in here, she still sees him at school.’

  ‘Yes, but they’re in a different year and I doubt they mix.’

  ‘I like Tommy,’ Angel wailed. ‘He . . . he stuck up for me.’

  ‘Did he now,’ Ruth said, pulling Angel into her arms, ‘and when was this?’

  ‘It was last week, in the playground. Some boys were pulling my hair, calling me a ginger-nut, but Tommy sorted them out, though his coat pocket got ripped.’

  Sally’s stomach lurched at her daughter’s words. She too had suffered bullying at school, and knew how awful it was. ‘Why didn’t you tell me, darling?’

  Angel shrugged. ‘’Cos Tommy sorted them out.’ Sally closed her eyes. She took a good look at herself and didn’t like what she saw. Tommy had stood up for Angel, but she had judged the lad and found him wanting. When had she turned into a snob? A snob who’d decided that the boy wasn’t good enough to associate with Angel. ‘Oh, Mum, I’m sorry. I’ve been awful to Tommy, and now I realise that he doesn’t deserve it.’

  ‘I’ve been telling you that all along but you wouldn’t listen. He may swear, but that isn’t his fault. He really is a good kid when you get to know him.’

  ‘Yes, I see that now, and in future, if Angel wants to play with him, that’s fine with me.’

  ‘Good, I’m glad to hear it, and I am trying to do something about his language.’

  ‘Well, I ain’t happy about the bleedin’ kid being in here, and you heard Laura Walters, it’s got to stop,’ Sadie said, her face stretching with amazement when both Sally and Ruth dissolved into tears of laughter. ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘Mum, you’re worse than him,’ Ruth gasped.

  ‘I flippin’ well ain’t.’

  ‘You flippin’ well are,’ Angel told her, arms akimbo.

  Sally doubled up again, her eyes watering with mirth. At last able to pull herself together, she said, ‘I’d best get ready for the hospital, Mum.’

  ‘Yeah, off you go. Now come on, Angel, we still haven’t found those decorations.’

  Sally left, feeling lighter as she got ready. All right, Arthur might not be home for Christmas, but the New Year looked bright and she found herself looking forward to 1967.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Christmas wasn’t the same without Arthur, but Sally tried to make it a happy one for Angel. She was still missing her daddy, but it was worse for Arthur in isolation with only a half an hour visit from Sally every day. He still wasn’t responding to the treatment, and doped up wi
th pain medication, he wasn’t very communicative.

  They were into the January of the new year when Sally opened the door to a surprise visitor. ‘Ann!’ she cried, seeing Arthur’s sister. ‘How lovely to see you.’

  ‘I’m at Mum’s for the weekend, and, bless her, she offered to look after the kids while I came to see you.’

  ‘Come on in,’ Sally invited.

  ‘I wish I could see Arthur, but Mum said he’s still in isolation.’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’

  ‘Isn’t there any sign of improvement?’

  ‘Not really, but hopefully there will be soon.’

  They walked into the kitchen then, Ann saying, ‘Hello everyone, and Angela, how about giving your auntie a cuddle?’

  Angel hesitated for a moment, but then ran up to Ann. ‘Where are them boys?’

  ‘If you mean your cousins, Darren and Jason, they’re with your Nanna Elsie.’

  ‘But I want to see them.’

  ‘You will, darling. Your granddad is coming to pick me up at two o’clock and you’re coming back to Wimbledon with us for a little tea party.’

  ‘Am I? Oh goody.’

  ‘You don’t mind do you, Sally?’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘I think Mum would like her to stay overnight too. What do you think?’

  ‘It’s fine with me,’ Sally said, sadly remembering the last time that Angel had stayed over with Elsie. She and Arthur had spent nearly all night making love. That seemed such a long time ago now.

  Ruth smiled at Ann. ‘It’s nice to see you, why don’t you and Sally go out on your own for a while?’

  ‘Mum, thanks,’ Sally said, touched by her mother’s thoughtfulness.

  ‘You could take Ann to see your flat.’

  ‘I want to go too,’ Angel said.

  ‘But I’m making cakes and I need you to help me.’

  Angel looked perplexed for a moment, but then said, ‘Can we put icing on the top?’

  ‘Yeah, I suppose so.’

  ‘All right, Nanny, I’ll stay with you.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that. I couldn’t manage without you,’ Ruth said, with a sly wink at Sally.

  Taking the cue, they left quickly, and as they walked Ann hooked her arm through Sally’s. ‘It seems strange to be out with no kids in tow. It reminds me of our teenage years.’

  ‘Yes, it does, days when we were young, free and single.’

  ‘I don’t regret getting married and having kids, but sometimes I’m so worn out I feel old before my time.’

  ‘I envy you having three. I’d love another baby.’

  ‘It’s sure to happen one day, but you might regret it if you have twins like me,’ Ann said, going on to describe some of the boys’ antics. When they turned into Maple Terrace the subject changed. ‘Sally, I’d forgotten what a nice street this is.’

  ‘Unlike nearly everything else around Candle Lane, at least it isn’t scheduled for redevelopment,’ Sally said, and reaching the flat she opened the front door with a flourish.

  ‘It’s lovely in here,’ Ann enthused.

  ‘I’ll light the gas fire. Blast, I haven’t got any matches. Hang on, I’ll give Patsy a knock.’

  ‘Who’s Patsy?’

  ‘She lives upstairs. I won’t be a mo,’ Sally said, hurrying out, hoping she was in.

  There were footsteps, and as she opened the door Patsy smiled with delight. ‘Hello, come on up,’ she said, gesturing Sally inside.

  ‘Sorry, I can’t. I’ve just brought my sister-in-law round to see my flat, but I couldn’t light the fire. Could you possibly lend me some matches?’

  ‘Yes, but even then your flat will take a while to warm up. Why not come up to my place instead and it’ll give me a chance to show you what I’ve done with it?’

  ‘Well . . . maybe just for a little while,’ Sally said, hoping that Ann wouldn’t mind.

  She didn’t, and after a quick look around Sally’s flat, they hurried up to Patsy’s. It was a complete contrast to Sally’s, all vibrant colours and modern furniture. The suite was made of black vinyl and scattered with bright orange, shaggy fur cushions and the wallpaper was predominately orange too. The psychedelic, swirling pattern made Sally’s eyes swim, but Ann was enthusiastic. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I love this.’

  ‘Please, sit down,’ Patsy invited, her coal-effect fire welcoming after the coldness downstairs.

  Patsy made them coffee in glass cups, and while at first conversation was a bit stilted, gradually the ice broke, especially when Ann found out that Patsy was a mobile hairdresser.

  ‘Before I got married I did hairdressing,’ Ann told her, ‘and when my children are older I’d like to go back to it. Going mobile sounds ideal, but I must admit, I’m a bit out of practice.’

  ‘I mostly get elderly, housebound clients so I don’t get the chance to keep up with modern styles. I can’t see my old ladies wanting a Vidal Sassoon cut,’ Patsy said, laughing at the thought.

  ‘I just love his geometric five point cut,’ Ann enthused. While they were talking, Sally took in Patsy’s striking outfit. She was wearing a black, polo neck sweater, under a black and white check, mini-pinafore dress. She looked great.

  As though becoming aware of Sally’s scrutiny Patsy looked down at her legs, exclaiming, ‘Oh, no, I’ve got a ladder in my tights.’

  ‘Are they comfortable?’ Sally asked.

  ‘Yes, and with miniskirts at least you don’t show your stocking tops when you sit down,’ Patsy replied before abruptly changing the subject. ‘How’s your husband, Sally? Is he still in hospital?’

  ‘He developed an infection in his wound, though I’m hoping he’ll be better soon.’

  ‘That’s good. I’m looking forward to you moving in downstairs.’

  ‘You might regret it when my brother starts playing his records,’ Ann warned. ‘He prefers Frank Sinatra to any of the modern stuff.’

  ‘It won’t bother me, but tell me, Ann, do you live around here?’

  ‘Not now. I used to, but when I got married we moved out of London. Anyway, back to hairdressing. Tell me, how did you build up your clients?’

  ‘It was easy really. I just put an ad in a local newspaper and cards in newsagent shop windows.’

  Sally could see that Ann was impressed, but with three young children it would be some time before she could follow Patsy’s lead. While they continued to chat, Sally’s eyes roamed the room, and seeing a photograph of a child on the long, low, sideboard, she wondered who it was.

  ‘I can’t wait to see your little girl,’ Patsy said, drawing Sally’s attention back to her.

  ‘You may not say that when you meet her. Angel can be a proper little madam.’

  ‘Take no notice of Sally,’ Ann protested. ‘Her daughter is adorable.’

  ‘Angel. What a lovely name.’

  ‘It’s Angela really,’ and plucking up the courage Sally added, ‘I see you have a photograph of a little girl on your sideboard.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ she said, offering nothing further.

  ‘Are you married, Patsy?’ asked Ann.

  ‘I was, but not any more.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. You’re so young to be a widow.’

  ‘He isn’t dead. We’re divorced.’

  Sally felt that Ann was asking too many questions, and said, ‘Thanks for the coffee, Patsy, and I just love these cups.’

  It was no good. Ann had risen to her feet and was now studying the photograph. ‘She looks just like you, Patsy. Is she your daughter?’

  ‘Yes.’ The answer abrupt.

  ‘She’s lovely, but where is she?’

  ‘Look, I don’t usually talk about it, but if you must know she lives with her father.’

  ‘Goodness. That must be hard for you.’

  There was a small pause and then Patsy said, ‘It was the court’s decision.’

  ‘They awarded custody to your husband! But why?’

  ‘Ann,’ Sally
warned, ‘this is none of our business.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Patsy said. ‘You might as well hear the rest. You see I married young and quickly became pregnant, but soon found out it was a mistake. I met and fell in love with another man, but when he refused to take on my daughter, I had to leave without her. Yes, I can see you’re shocked, and no doubt you’ll be pleased to know that I got my come-uppance. He left me two years later and my husband wouldn’t take me back. I had abandoned him and my child, hence he got custody.’

  Both Sally and Ann were left speechless. Patsy then said, ‘Now you can see why I usually don’t talk about it. By the look on your faces I can see that you’re both judging me and no doubt find me wanting.’

  ‘No, no, of course not,’ Sally said, but it did little to ease the atmosphere.

  ‘I’m sorry for quizzing you, Patsy,’ said Ann.

  ‘Let’s just forget it,’ she said, ‘but instead of going back to hairdressing you could consider becoming a copper. You’d be good at extracting confessions.’

  Ann smiled hesitantly, but as Patsy laughed at her own wit, both she and Sally joined in. The tension in the room melted away and soon they were all chatting freely again, until Sally said, ‘I’m sorry, Ann, but we’d best get back to Candle Lane. I want to dress Angel up a bit if she’s going back to your mum’s, and then get ready to see Arthur.’

  They said their goodbyes, but as they walked home Sally found Ann quiet. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘I’m not sure about Patsy. She seemed nice enough at first, but then she told us about abandoning her little girl.’

  ‘I admit I was shocked, but we don’t know what it’s like to be stuck in a loveless marriage. She must have been really desperate to have run off like that.’

  ‘Maybe, but think about it, Sally. Can you imagine abandoning Angel?’

  ‘No, I can’t, but maybe there’s more to Patsy’s story.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe,’ Ann said doubtfully.

  ‘Come on, enough about Patsy. I want to pick your brains about what to get your dad for his birthday next week.’

  ‘Blimey, search me. I haven’t got a clue and had enough of a problem finding him something for Christmas.’

  ‘What about cuff-links?’

  ‘They’d do, but it’s a shame that Mum cancelled his party. She said with Arthur still in hospital it wouldn’t be the same without him.’